of lawyers right then and there. But at 12, five dollars was a shit-load of money. Like the generation that got caught in the loophole of the seventies and will never have to apply for the draft, I was left out of that mythical allowance business I’ve heard tales of taking place in distant lands and counties. Frank was/is Jewish so I’m sure he thought that he was giving me valuable work experience or else giving me a hard lesson in negotiating that stereotypical Jewish people will never be able

chopping virgin is going in for their first time. We did this the other night on the front porch of the house so I wouldn’t have to go through the trouble of finding a broom. The hair can breakdown and fertilize the lawn with its leftover traces of marijuana and LSD for all I care. I got a camera and took pictures so I could do a before-and-after kind of montage and make it into one of my art collage projects. I got the “before” picture just fine, and notice how I’ve only mentioned Jenifer

one of our conversations. I’m a bastard I guess. I can tell that my sister has accepted the changing of the guard finally and that she really likes Jenifer a lot. Maybe Alecia has identified with an older sister figure during the few times we’ve eaten in Dallas with my family over the past few months or maybe its because Jenifer talks to her like a person. I’ve been watching, noticing their interaction and I respect Jenifer for being so good hearted towards Alecia. This has made me love both

a “chica” and a “grande” or some shit, and I ordered the “chica” because I didn’t want to get plastered. Plus I drank all those beers earlier and I always forget how the rhyme goes. Is it “beer before liquor, never sicker” or “liquor after beer, never fear”, I can never remember? Anyway, I’m glad I got the small size because it was the worst fucking margarita I’ve ever had. I think the waiter just poured straight tequila in a glass and added some green food coloring, but I finished every drop,

and have more than the occasional vacation with the love of my life. So everything is great right? People pass me in the street and say “How’s it going?” and with a glint of my teeth and click of my heels I automatically reply “Great!” But as I write this I still feel like something is missing. I don’t think my life can (or will) get any better than this and I really don’t see any way to keep making it exponentially better. There will always be little things to work for of course, more money and